


Luci Lu

by hangdog



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Gender Identity, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15169985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangdog/pseuds/hangdog
Summary: Lucio’s secret life catches up to him when a powerful stranger makes a tantalizing offer.





	Luci Lu

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place before Lucio is recruited into Overwatch, and before Overwatch captures Doomfist.

On the last weekend of every month, Lucio curtains the windows of his home in Rio and queues up his secret playlist on his bedroom speakers. His unreleased songs feature his modulated voice in a feminine pitch, accompanied by romantic strings that gradually materialize from an industrial beat. As the music plays, he walks into his costume closet and slides plastic-wrapped blazers and coats towards the middle of the rack, shuffling his unused seasonal outerwear aside to reveal a small group of dresses hidden against the wall. Pink and red sequins glitter as he caresses the fabrics, savoring the silk and taffeta and gauze and lace with his reverent fingers.

Tonight, he’s feeling sweet and vulnerable, and he’s visiting a new nightclub in which he hasn’t yet performed. No one will recognize the famous Lucio in a dress. No one will see him under the lipstick and blush.

Lucio lets the music guide his hips as he sashays out of the closet, trailing a slinky, shimmering yellow dress from his arm. The fabric glows against the warm undertones of his skin. He is already shirtless and waxed from his armpits down, and his lower leg prosthetics are shapely enough to flaunt from the hem of his ensemble. He doesn’t look in the mirror until he is finished tucking and arranging his _ovos e salsicha_ in his white satin panties _._ When he is done, there is no hint of manhood between his legs.

Then comes the delicious process of slipping the dress over his head and shimmying through it like a snake reversing the shed of its skin. He snuggles into the luxurious drape and relishes the way that the dress clings to his hips, revealing the plush and muscular curves of his ass and thighs. His narrow waist and full hips have always made him look feminine from behind, and it’s a relief to embrace this aspect of his body in clothes that are meant to accentuate it. He doesn’t pad his chest at all. The dress falls in such a way that it gives the slightest illusion of small breasts, and his bralette enhances the roundness of his pectoral muscles. When he looks at himself in the mirror, with his gold-capped braids framing his softly contoured face, he feels complete exactly as he is.

 

* * *

 

Blue Rain is the club’s opening night DJ. Lucio recognizes traces of her early music from the message boards of an outdated American social media network. She’s refined her technique. Now, her message of social uprising is clearer than ever. Electronic music has always had a shadow of controversy since the Omnic Wars. All of her samples are singing Omnics, remixed to a beat like a primal cry. Dancers rock up and down across the floor, swaying into one another. The humans are sweating and the Omnics are streaked with condensation.

Lucio isn’t dancing. He stands at the back of the room and analyzes his old friend’s work in order to avoid joining the crowd. Self-consciousness is new to him, and yet part of him secretly enjoys the feeling. He isn’t allowed to be unsure or hesitant when he rallies his neighborhood, or when he promotes freedom across the country. People need his energy to pull through their hardships. They rely on him to bring the cause together. Now, no one is looking at him, and he can take his time.

A spark of tension distracts Lucio from both the music and his self-reflection. He looks up from the sealike crowd and scans the edges of the room. The tables in the seating area are lit more dimly than the dance floor. He isn’t sure, but he thinks that someone is watching him after all.

Lucio moves to the other side of the dance floor and finally walks into the crowd. He moves through them, feeling them more than seeing them, and letting his hips and shoulders lead him naturally through the gaps and breaks in the people, until he finds himself a niche in the midst of them, and they all move as one, sheltering him in the anonymity of numbers. The music matches his speed and pushes him to the brink of his ability. His cock falls out of his panties and he doesn’t care. He dances with a generously endowed girl who drags her tits down his chest, displacing his dress and touching his bare skin with hers. She thrusts her hips up against his and gasps in delight when she feels his dick, and she smiles at him and he smiles at her with the easy love of two people admiring one another.

Lucio tries to lead her away from the dance floor, but it turns out that the girl isn’t as ready to fuck as he is, and she won’t step out with him. Lucio backs off and crosses the room again. There, a tall man with long hair approaches Lucio from behind, and Lucio is eager to grind and roll his ass against his cock. He reaches back and caresses his dance partner’s cheek as the man feels up his leg under his skirt. Lucio’s balls are still tucked in but the head of his dick is poking out, and he moans when his exposed flesh touches the back of the man’s hand.

Their dance halts when the man’s hand gropes unkindly between Lucio’s legs, as if confirming a bitter suspicion. Lucio immediately understands what is about to happen. He jumps like a frog from a tree and puts several people between himself and his erstwhile partner. There was a chance that nothing would have happened, but Lucio is avoiding any chance of conflict tonight.

He takes a break and goes into the ladies’ room to readjust himself in his panties. As he fixes his eyeliner in the mirror, he sees two women huddled in the corner. They seem to look away just as he notices them, in a way that makes him wonder if they were watching him. Do they recognize his face?

He hurries to leave the bathroom and exits just as the pounding music transitions to a gentler croon. The electronic music and Omnic voices are softer now, providing the crowd a much-needed respite from the fierce metres of the previous songs.

“It is too slow, too soon,” says someone at his side. Lucio turns to see a man in an Armani suit that frames his broad shoulders like a masterpiece of power. The man has his eyes on the stage, but he is standing so closely to Lucio that there is no doubt that he is speaking to him. “These people were not pushed to their limit. They have strength yet.”

Lucio plays it cool. Talking about music is a classic pickup angle, and it gives him no reason to believe that the man recognizes him for who he is. Opening his mouth will remove all doubt where his sex is concerned, but at this point, Lucio wants to be forthcoming about it. He answers in his natural register, “It was the right time to slow down. Rhythm’s not just about the beat, but the pause in between, you know?”

The man turns to him. There is no malice or judgment in his cool, dark eyes, but there is hunger. Lucio is being stared at like a lavishly wrapped present that begs to be ripped open. He switches his hip to the side and tilts his head to expose his long neck, and Lucio thrills inside when the man exhales a ravenous growl. Lucio knows who has been watching him all night.

The man extends his hand. “Join me.”

Lucio meets his match on the dance floor. His new partner’s instincts are flawless, and no matter how Lucio challenges him with different styles and acrobatic moves, he never misses a beat. Even more impressive is how naturally they fit within the crowd. The man makes space with his presence alone, as if gravity itself behaves differently around him. Dancing with him reminds Lucio of skating up walls and jumping from building to building at eye-watering speeds. At any moment, he could lose his balance, but the threat of falling only enhances his euphoria.

Danger is also present in the possessive ways in which the man pulls him close and guides his body, at times locking Lucio against him with a painless but unbreakable grip, and other times he tries to disorient Lucio with spins and twists. Lucio isn’t thrown offbalance in the slightest, but he loses ground when he catches his footing, and the man takes that ground at once. Every answering movement reminds him that his partner is stronger, and bigger, and single-minded in his pursuit. The dance becomes more like a battle with each step, and Lucio knows he’s not winning. As if punishing him for his loss, the man grinds continuously against Lucio, upsetting Lucio’s tuck. Lucio pulls away, but the man chases him, catching him again with his steel bar of an arm and holding Lucio against him so that Lucio can feel the man’s cock dwarfing his.

Just as Lucio seriously considers breaking into a round of capoeira to even the odds, the man leans in and asks, “Would you like a drink?”

Sweat rolls down Lucio’s back. He could keep going for much longer than this, but he knows that he’s losing the battle of wills so far, and he’s ready to get fucked anyway. He agrees. They stand by the bar for a few minutes, finish their drinks in a few swallows, and go out to the parking lot.

Lucio’s not surprised to be lead into the back seat of a limo. He checks the front seat for a familiar face from the driver’s union, even though the dividing window is tinted, and is relieved when he doesn’t recognize the driver. The driver only briefly looks up from his phone as the couple approaches, and he ignores them as Lucio’s new friend opens the door and invites him inside.

“My name’s Lu, by the way. Didn’t catch yours,” Lucio says as he crawls into the soft leather seats.

“Akande.” Lucio gasps when Akande chases him into the seats and climbs over him, swallowing his mouth in a kiss. Akande sucks Lucio’s lower lip into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth and rolling his tongue gently over the skin. When Lucio exhales in surprise, Akande deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue past Lucio’s lips with the boldness of conquest. Akande circles Lucio with his arms and moves him as if he weighs nothing, laying him out on the bench seat. Lucio bends his knees in an effort to create some space between them, but Akande merely catches both legs behind the knee and pulls Lucio’s thighs over his hips. Lucio presses his inner thighs against Akande, where the edges of the prosthetic meet his flesh. The slinky dress rides up Lucio’s waist, and his stiff cock juts out of his panties, dewy in the humid summer air and beading with precum. Akande’s broad, rough hand covers Lucio’s shaft completely, and his calloused fingertips stroke at the loose skin beneath Lucio’s cock. Lucio’s balls are still tucked inside of him, and he whines with an oversensitive blend of pleasure and discomfort as Akande tugs and pulls his package until his balls pop out of his body.

“Beautiful,” Akande murmurs. He pushes the skirt further up Lucio’s body, revealing his smooth lower belly and the swell of his oblique muscles. Akande’s touch is deceptively soft as he cradles Lucio’s tender balls, and Lucio realizes that he is holding very still, as if he expects Akande to switch gears and crush him at any moment. Akande glances at Lucio’s face and slows his hand. “Are you afraid, Lu?”

“If I didn’t want to be here, I would already be gone,” Lucio says. He can’t tell if Akande wants him to be afraid, until Akande smiles without a trace of disappointment and lowers himself over Lucio like a lion settling in the grass. His weight could suffocate Lucio if Akande didn’t hold himself up so easily on his elbows, his grace belying his immense strength. Lucio writhes against Akande’s clothed cock, arching into him. “Take off your pants.”

“Ordering me around?” Akande laughs and shifts his weight to one elbow. He unbuttons and unzips with his free hand, and he guides his stiff cock against Lucio’s and frots against him in the grip of his palm.

Lucio digs his prosthetic heels into Akande’s back and drags him closer. “Not enough,” he pants. Akande’s hand is strong and deft, and his fingers go exactly where they need to be, but he knows there’s more to come and he’s impatient.

Akande laughs again, his smile brilliant with triumph. He releases Lucio’s cock and rises up on his knees. Lucio watches him retrieve a tube from his pocket and pour the lubricant in his fingers. Akande warms it in his hands, rubbing his palms together, before he grasps Lucio again. The heated gel is almost too much for Lucio’s sensitive balls, but Akande clearly wishes to push Lucio’s limits, and though Akande’s touch is measured, he does not relent as he caresses and teases Lucio to the brink.

Lucio breaks and reaches down between them to grasp Akande’s wrist. Akande growls in surprise as Lucio drags his hand down to his taint. Lucio silences any dispute by squirming on to Akande’s fingers and hissing, “Let's go.”

Akande spreads Lucio’s cheeks and presses his fingertip inside slowly. Lucio wriggles closer, and Akande takes time to explore him. He curls his finger and turns until he brushes the bulb of Lucio’s prostate, and when Lucio yelps, Akande withdraws completely.

Lucio has only a moment of respite before Akande’s cock replaces his hand. Lucio winds against him, his jaw dangling as he rubs the cleft of his ass against the head of Akande’s cock. Akande pulls one of Lucio’s legs into the air, exposing him and spreading him sideways. Lucio groans as Akande breaches and stretches him. The girth of his cock has Lucio clawing at the leather and gasping for air, but Akande gives him time, and soon Lucio is ready for everything Akande can give him.

Akande gives, and gives, and gives. His endurance must be a blessing and a curse. He fucks Lucio tirelessly, powerful and gentle in turns, allowing all the time he needs to master Lucio’s body. He flips Lucio on to his back and pulls Lucio’s legs over his shoulders to drive balls deep into him, and then when Lucio is overwhelmed and on edge Akande tosses Lucio’s legs to the side, pins his thighs together, and fucks him slowly and steadily, testing the fluttering squeezes of Lucio’s inner channel, until Lucio is begging, “Harder, faster.”

Akande leans over Lucio and bites his jaw and neck, tasting his sweat. “You like it fast?” Akande whispers in his ear. Lucio nods desperately. Akande churns his hips against Lucio, smacking against his ass. His heavy balls slap against Lucio’s thigh, until Akande flips Lucio on to his belly, bullies him flat against the seat, and resumes the furious pace.

Lucio wants to be sore. He wants to take Akande like a champion and emerge victorious, and Akande is willing to oblige. He gives Lucio no quarter, holding him in place with a hand on the back of his neck and driving into him like he wants to milk Lucio’s prostate with the brute force of his cock.

Lucio makes the mistake of moaning, “Don’t stop, I’m gonna cum.” Akande stops immediately and pulls out. When Lucio opens his mouth to complain, Akande kisses him into submission. He wraps his tongue around Lucio’s and swallows Lucio’s frustrated groans.

Their lips part with a loud pop. Akande purrs, “Rhythm is also the pauses between the beats,” and for the first time in his life since fighting the Vishkar Corporation, Lucio considers cold-blooded murder.

Akande starts up again on his own terms, after he repositions Lucio. He pushes Lucio’s head and shoulders off the seat and fucks him half-on and half-off. The blood rushes to Lucio’s head and his heartbeat thunders in his ears, punctuated by Akande’s groans. Lucio can’t tell if Akande is close to his own climax or not. Akande’s self-control is so ironclad that Lucio wonders if Akande is even capable of release.

He doesn’t wonder long. Akande’s thrusts eventually become jerkier and less coordinated. He pulls Lucio back on to the seat and folds him in half, leaning over him until Lucio’s ankles are past his ears and Akande’s chest is flat against his. Akande pants into Lucio’s hair.

“You’re incredible,” says Lucio, and this inspires another burst of energy in Akande, who squeezes Lucio in his hand and rolls his cock up into the exact spot that Lucio needs to spill over. Lucio’s cum twists out of his balls and spurts between Akande’s fingers, and as Akande fucks his last few thrusts deep into Lucio, Akande greedily licks his hand clean. Lucio watches the steel soften in Akande’s face when he cums, and the hot liquid rush inside of him feels like the last vestige of Akande’s control.

The limousine is musky and silent for a few moments. They separate, and Akande climbs off of Lucio and turns to the door. He opens a minibar and rummages inside while Lucio rolls his skirt back down over his thighs.

Akande offers him a bottle of water. Lucio almost laughs, but the sound doesn’t come out. He drinks deeply.

Akande watches him drink and swallow and waits until Lucio lowers the bottle to say, “What would it take for you to join me?”

Lucio does laugh at that. There’s only one way to interpret that statement, he thinks. “Hey, I had fun, and I’ll do that again if you’re up to it, but I don’t want any commitment.”

Akande isn’t amused. He stares at Lucio until the smile leaves Lucio’s face. “You would be invaluable. I will make you an offer.”

“Whoah, okay, there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not a—I’m not charging you for this. We were just having fun.”

“You will have the chance to destroy Vishkar completely.”

Lucio’s stomach drops like a stone. He has to make sure he heard that right. He says the safest thing, which is, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Akande scoffs. “Are you not the Equalizer?”

Lucio has the perfect, fake, easygoing laugh for situations like these. He lets it out now. “You’re funny. I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyway, I gotta go.” He reaches behind him for the door, but Akande intercepts him. Lucio prepares to punch Akande in the throat.

“I know that you believe in freedom,” Akande says. “But you still don’t feel free enough to be yourself.”

Lucio clenches his fists in his dress, wrinkling the material. What did it matter if the dress was ruined? He would only wear it once. For the rest of the time, on stage and with his friends, he would be what they expected him to be. He would fit into their labels so that he would not shatter their faith in him. At this point, he would be as good as a liar if they found out.

Akande watches him, reading Lucio’s face as plainly as a book. “I see you in ways that others cannot. You are not even close to your full potential. I could train you. You would turn the tides of the world to your favor at last. Think of all that can be accomplished when you take a more active role.”

Lucio can tell that he’s missing something. “You’ve seen my protests, right? Can’t get much more active.”

“Talon would disagree.”

There it is. Lucio grasps the door handle. “Not interested.”

Akande makes a move like he wants to block him, but he doesn’t. It’s obvious that Akande wants Lucio to stay of Lucio’s own accord.

“You will think on my offer,” Akande predicts. “You want to change the world. After what happened to the Vishkar building, I think you understand that there is only one way to make a change.”

Lucio feels sick. He keeps it together long enough to spit, “You’re wrong.” He opens the door and adds as blithely as he can manage, “Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”

“I did not give you a contact number.”

“Exactly.” Lucio hops out of the limo and slams the door before Akande can get the last word. Double time on the toes of his heels, and with a wide stance to go easy on his sore ass, he hustles through the parking lot and back into the club, where Blue Rain is still playing.

Lucio isn’t ready to go home yet. He doesn’t want to sit in a cab and dwell on his thoughts in silence. He finds a table in view of the door and sits down, careless of the visible bulge between his legs. He lets the music swallow him up and tries not to remember the sound of the explosion at Vishkar’s headquarters in Rio, when the bomb he planted in their offices leveled the parking lot.

No one was hurt. Lucio called in the bomb threat himself. The evacuation made it possible for Lucio to steal Vishkar’s sonic technology, and the only casualty was Vishkar’s wallet. The people of Brazil celebrate Lucio for stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. They don’t care how the technology came to his possession. Even Vishkar’s attempt to ruin Lucio’s name by publicizing his alleged connection to the bomb threat was met with disbelief from the public. The trial is postponed while Vishkar struggles to maintain a presence in Rio.

None of this knowledge can ease the nauseating guilt in Lucio’s belly. He had meant the bomb threat as a harmless distraction for the greater good, not as an extremist signal to a terrorist organization.

Lucio doesn’t know much more about Talon than the average person. Overwatch’s media campaign has made it clear that Talon is the villain in the new world order. He would have expected a death threat to accompany a job offer from such a group. A chill comes over him as he realizes that it still might. He is still watching the door closely, but Akande has not followed him.

The cumulative effect of all the night’s paranoia finally convinces Lucio that it’s time to leave Brazil for a while. Lucio has been meaning to visit the States, anyway. If Talon is so interested in him, they can track him over thousands of miles. It’s not the first time he’s given a powerful corporate entity the slip, and he knows it won’t be the last.

As Lucio prepares to leave, he looks on the bright side: while he’s traveling, he can dress as he pleases from day to day, with no one to judge him. He can be Lucio one day and Lu the next.

The only bittersweet thing about it is that he won’t get to fuck Akande again, but sacrifices have to be made on the road to a better world.


End file.
